Love in a mille-feuille
by TechNomaNcer28
Summary: As an ex-convict, Sirius finds it terribly difficult to find a job. Remus, a pastry chef in a semi-busy area of London just cannot resist taking in strays, especially not when they look like Sirius Black. So begins Sirius's journey to find love with a delicious Mille Feuille in midst of flour, butter, an odd assortment of co-workers. Pairing:SBRL.
1. First bite

AN:Hi my pretties. :)!This was a fic I wrote for the rs-games this year. I had a few drawings with this story but of course since does not support images,if you ever want to take a look at the fic with its illustrations, I have a working link on my profile. This fic was supposed to be going in one direction and then I changed it. All through this, adVENTitiious, my beautiful beta stuck through and brought so much life to this fic,I adore you. *kisses*

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><p><span>Chapter 1<span>

Sirius Black cursed, hands up by his chest and balled into stubborn fists as he kicked out at his attacker, all the while glancing around for a way out of the dark alley. He clenched his jaw, arms pulling in closer to protect, when another one of them flicked open a knife with an all-too-seasoned twist of the wrist.

The sensible thing to do would have been to just surrender and let them take whatever of his they could, but life in prison tended to make a person unwilling to be so charitable. As it was, Sirius's age and his lack of an active life was providing no advantage whatsoever against three men in their early twenties, and he suddenly found himself tumbling backwards, his left hip making solid contact with the garbage can set beside a black metal door as he struggled to maneuver his body out of harm's way. He landed on dirty pavement.

_Please let someone hear that_, Sirius thought as the clanging of the garbage can echoed loudly off the brick walls in the narrow alley. The muggers paused only for a second before the tall one—the one with a horrible tattoo of a skull covering most of the left side of his face and neck—lunged at him, and he tried to roll away. Anger surged violently in his chest when he was pinned on his back by the man twice his size; it didn't matter whether they were young, or doing this for fun or if this was how they made a living, he fought back fiercely. Sirius was too busy trying to save his own neck as he shouted threateningly, clawing at the man, having found his body too close to land a good hit, to even notice the door that had slammed open and the new pair of footsteps hurrying towards them.

"What's going on here? Out! Get out of here!" A man, Sirius placed the voice as tattoo-guy jerked back, his heavy body lifting off him faster than he could process. Sirius coughed as he sat up to watch in amazement as a thin, brown-haired man threateningly swung around a large rolling pin at the three men, who actually seemed to consider his words and then quickly turned the direction they had come from while chasing Sirius all the way from the open streets. Tattoo-guy flipped him the bird once even as he was scuttling away behind the other two. Immature prats!

"Are you all right there?"

Sirius looked up at the man and ignored the offered hand at his side as he began to get up, protesting joints making him grimace slightly; he really needed to get back on a workout routine.

"Yeah," Sirius replied once he had straightened himself, he turned to look at the man in a white shirt and an apron. A waiter perhaps? "Thank you for that." And he really did mean it. He was rewarded with a nod and a small smile behind the scruff of stubble and a light moustache.

"Would you like to come inside? You look like you need it," he asked in a voice that Sirius only just noticed was actually quite low, it didn't go with the rest of him somehow. Sirius bristled slightly at the comment.

"I'm not some sort of stray dog," he said bitingly as he scowled at the man who looked up and down at him.

"I didn't mean to offend you," he told Sirius in a tone that managed to sound apologetic. "But I'm closing up the shop alone, and you don't seem like you'd rather be home than here. We could both use the company. Of course, you can say no."

Sirius considered his words, and the paranoia that'd been his constant companion for almost a year now since being discharged from Azkaban almost held him back, almost made him throw back the man's kind offer in his face. But he was being given a choice, and that was what made Sirius step forward and manage something akin to a smile.

"I'd like to say yes if that's all right," Sirius told him and was rewarded with a genuine smile this time that transformed the man's facial features in a pleasant manner even with the scars he had covering his face. He would like to know the story behind those, maybe later.

"Welcome to _Sweet Love Pastries_," the man announced with a flourish of his rolling pin and Sirius, surprised, stifled a laugh at that. The other man looked at him with his lips quirking up in a smile and chuckled before shrugging. "What can I say, Abe's a bit eccentric."

"Abe?" Sirius asked after he had looked around.

"Aberforth. The owner," the man said, motioning for Sirius to follow him, "Come on." Sirius took in the faded wallpaper that had a deliberately grungy look to it, but the yellow lights above and white curtains softened the effect somehow.

"So what brings you to the neighbourhood?" the man asked when he had retrieved a platter holding a spoon and three pieces of layered pastries. He set it down on the counter by Sirius. "Leftovers, but they're still fresh." He smiled at him in an assuring manner.

"Why are you helping me?" Sirius asked instead. "I could rob you off right now. Hell, I could be a serial killer for all you know." The man blinked at him, and Sirius cursed his own bitterness; this man didn't need to face the brunt of it when all he was doing was trying to help him.

"I suppose it was a bit rash of me," the man said and ducked his head as if to hide a flush. "But I'll give you the benefit of doubt." Sirius let out a surprised laugh and then realised that had he been a serial killer the man would no doubt have pulverized him with the rolling pin he seemed to use like a weapon.

Sirius didn't have much of a sweet tooth but he eyed the chocolate covered mille-feuille hungrily; it had been a while since the thought of treating himself to dessert had crossed his mind. He sliced up the dessert carefully not wanting to leave crumbs on the clean table. He couldn't hold back the moan as the mix of sugar and spice hit his tongue and he looked at his shocked rescuer. "This is so…delicious," he said for lack of a better word but the man seemed pleased. "What _is_ this?" he asked digging into it heartily.

"Chocolate and chilli mille-feuille," he replied, still pleased. "We're not keeping it on the menu though, it doesn't sell." Sirius gave him an incredulous look.

"Your customers don't have much taste then, do they?" he said haughtily, "Did you make this?" The man nodded and Sirius marveled at his skills. "I've had a lot of mille-feuille in my life but none of them were this good." He said honestly making the man laugh shyly.

"Well, that explains it. You're the only one who hasn't had a disaster with the pastry." Sirius hummed.

"What's your name?" Sirius asked once he had heartily finished licking the spoon clean of the chocolate and strawberry sauce it had been covered in.

"Remus." Sirius cocked his head to the side expectantly, and the man rolled his eyes before replying, "Lupin, it's Lupin."

"Remus Lupin, then." Sirius stepped up to the man and stared into the brown—no, hazel—eyes and thrust his hand out for a shake. "The name's Sirius." This time the man—Remus—imitated Sirius, and he bit the inside of his lip. "I don't know if I should. You're probably better off not knowing me."

Remus snorted as he stepped away, the action not carrying any bite to it. Sirius didn't know why but the sight of the man turning away had him forcing his name out; this man could very well be his only friend if he allowed him to be.

"Black," he said hoarsely, "the name's Sirius Black." He waited for the judgment to dawn on the man's eyes—they were a very clear, beautiful shade of hazel—before he, just like everybody else, distanced himself from Sirius. He saw it when recognition sharpened the man's gaze, but the rest of what he had anticipated didn't come as the man studied him.

"Looks like it wasn't just my parents who had a penchant for strange names," Remus said, nonchalantly, and then pointed at the platter. "Do you want a drink with that? I'm afraid we don't have anything but water at the moment, although I could probably brew up a cuppa if you like."

"Only if you're up for it," Sirius replied politely, ducking his head behind long black hair to conceal the relieved small that was forming on his lips.

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><p>Don't hesitate to leave a word of advice or a review. Faves are always appreciated.<p> 


	2. Black haired beauty

AN:Here's the second part of the fic,guys!Again,thanks to adventitiious for her wonderful beta work! :)

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><p><span>Chapter 2<span>

Remus checked the front door and smiled when the bell tinkled; there was something nostalgic about the noise of a bell in any kind of store. He made his way to the back and into the kitchen to set things up for the day and yawned as he flicked on the lights. He really could have done with an hour or two more of sleep but last night's events had caused him to be late and well, Fridays were always rushed. It was a good thing that Sirius had practically begged him for work; apparently, people were very hesitant to work with someone who had served time even if they hadn't actually been criminals.

"I'm going mad, staying home with nothing to do," Sirius had told him, and Remus had caved in. It would seem that pretending to not have known Sirius had been a good route. Twelve years away from everything, Remus knew how daunting the world could be after a period of isolation, and Sirius's haunted eyes had caused that protective streak in him to come pounding on his heart.

Of course he knew Sirius, anybody who owned a television or read the newspapers knew him, but Remus hadn't actually thought it was _really_ Sirius Black—ex-police officer, who had been wrongly convicted and released after twelve years of imprisonment. Sirius Black, the man Remus had known from a distance during his first year at work. Only, the Sirius Black of that time had not had time for anything other than his best friend and jobs well done; Remus had just been another tree in the backdrop.

He cleared his mind as he tugged open the drawer that held three of his favourite rolling pins, fingers wrapping around the one in the middle, and then pulled it out with a flourishing move he would never perform in front of anybody else before setting it gently on the table and diving into work whole-heartedly.

The morning outside was still quiet enough, the bustling activities, the honking and the _clack_ of shoes on pavement would begin soon, but for now Remus could let his guard down fully, almost be himself and not turn around to constantly watch his back.

It was almost forty minutes later that a knock sounded at the staff entrance door and Justin—Justin Finch, as he liked to be called—their newest waiter entered with a good morning as he munched on a peanut butter sandwich while holding a Styrofoam cup in one hand. _Oh, to be that young._

"Morning," Remus greeted easily. "You know, you don't have to be here until seven." He looked at the young teen, who blushed slightly before stuffing the rest of the sandwich into his mouth.

"I know, but better safe than sorry, right?" he said, and Remus shook his head.

"Of course, now if only Fletcher could follow an example," he muttered under his breath, but Justin caught it anyway and sniggered before disappearing inside the pantry to change into his uniform.

Blueberry scones? Check. Vegan muffins? Check. Cream puffs? Check. Check, check and—the key lime pie? Remus rubbed the back of his neck as he eyed the bag of flour.

The shop was well into two hours of business, but Sirius still hadn't shown up. Remus brushed the back of his hand across his forehead and leaned back, the last of the pies baking in the oven. In the end, he'd had to do much of the work himself since Dung had unsurprisingly strolled in late; he really should have asked for another patissier long ago. He rubbed at his eyes tiredly.

A sharp knock at the staff entrance door jolted him out of his half-sleepy state, and Remus looked around furtively to see if anyone had seen the short lapse he'd had. The knocking grew more insistent. Damn it! He scowled and hurried to get the door before whoever-it-was knocked it down.

"Sirius?" Remus asked, more out of shock than anything else; besides the fact that he had given up any hope of him actually showing, this man looked nothing like he had yesterday. Gone was the scruff, his hair was combed, and in the light Remus could really see his silver-gray eyes like he never had a chance to before. And that the apologetic smile made his heart jump up just once was unexpected too.

_Residual feelings, Remus_ he told himself. "I was sure you were not going to show up," he admitted as he let Sirius in.

"Sorry about that, I haven't woken up early in a long time," Sirius said genuinely and pointed towards the table that was now dusted in flour and powdered sugar, "I hope I'm not too late to help with anything." Remus smiled properly at him for the first time as he closed the door.

"Not at all," he said as he led him into the pantry, "perfect timing, actually."

"What can I say?" Sirius said airily, surprising Remus with his speech that sounded smoother than his gruff tone last evening, "You see, I have a way with people, being the knight in shining armour and all." Remus snorted before shoving a list into Sirius's hands.

"Get dressed, we have work to do."

"Bossy," Sirius muttered and hurried away with a chuckle when Remus made a show of tightening his hold on his rolling pin.

OOooOO

It turned out that Sirius was horrible, absolutely horrendous, when it came to following directions, and he was very chatty to top it off. He asked everything from, 'So, what did you actually want to be when you grew up, because you look like an art student kind of a person?' to, 'Did you know that there are more gay dogs in this world than gay elephants?' and everything in between that had nothing to do with whipping the batter he was supposed to.

"Sirius!" Remus exclaimed finally, when the man dipped his finger in the chocolate batter. "These are going to be for sale, you can't do things like that." Sirius adopted an expression of utter bliss and dipped his index again. Remus slapped his palm against his forehead.

"It's good," Sirius told him with a grin that got under Remus's skin again. "Relax, will you? We aren't advertising my taste-testing, are we? Nobody will know."

"That's not the point," Remus said before morphing his expression into a scowl when he made to do it again, which had Sirius setting the bowl down and retrieving a round pan. Someone called out Remus's name from the counter, and he sighed before addressing Sirius. "Don't forget to grease that one."

"Sure," Sirius quipped as Remus left to deal with the old woman in a vulture hat, who kept tapping on the glass shelf with her walking stick to point out the pastry she wanted; Marlene—their hostess and saleswoman—telling her not to do so was apparently very offending.

Sirius was so busy taking a peek through the window at the spectacle that he actually did forget to grease the pan, and the cake that he had managed to bake had been turned to a parfait as a specialty dish for the day thanks to Remus's quick thinking.

This was going to be so much work…

OOooOO

"I'm done for, Remus is going to be so fucking mad," Sirius moaned from his seat as Justin patted his shoulder.

"Yeah, you should have known better," Justin agreed. "There's a reason the chefs wear those hats, you know."

It was later on in the evening, a week after Sirius had officially begun working after an interview with 'Abe' who wore his collar up and sunglasses at night. _Sweet Love Pastries_ had been closed for the day, and Sirius was slumped over one of the little round tables in the dining area. Remus had tersely told him to just 'stay put, Sirius' earlier and since then he had smoked half a pack of fags outside the shop, and was currently enjoying one inside.

"Here he comes," Dung—Mundungus Fletcher, shortened to Dung. Honestly!—murmured as he placed a shiny fork back on the table from where he had been about to sneak it in his sleeve.

Sirius looked up to see Remus and put out the cigarette; he had upset the man enough for one day. Lupin had somehow managed to get to him, and not necessarily in a bad way. He was still cautious, but the man's never-ending kindness was like a balm to his weary soul, and more and more Sirius found himself giving up a little more of himself to the man—where he was from, where had grown up, and how he had loved his school in Scotland at which point Remus had looked strangely sad.

_"That sounds great," Remus had said, "We used to live around the East End until I got a scholarship for university, so I didn't get to attend school regularly."_

"And yet you managed a scholarship?" Sirius asked, in slight awe, and Remus flushed a little behind his scruff. "What did you do before this?" Remus looked at him and bit his lip.

"You really don't remember, do you?" Remus replied, more of a statement. Sirius cocked his head in a confused manner, and Remus paused in his work. "I used to work for the Metropolitan Police." Sirius's eyes widened.

"You don't say, but then that means we would have—" Sirius flailed his hands madly as he began understanding the implication of Remus's words, "—you, I, we worked in the same place, at the same time." He leaned back against the table, astounded. Sirius wondered how different things might have been had he noticed this man; Remus and he would have been friends for all their life. But then he thought of James and Peter, and he decided that maybe it wouldn't have remained so.

In the end though, Remus hadn't killed him except maybe with his patient understanding that made Sirius feel quite guilty, it turned out that a young girl named Millicent Bulstrode—they had found that out through an impromptu 'customer's comments' provision on the back of her receipt—had thrown a hissy fit over finding a black hair in her muffin. Sirius was actually slightly offended; the girl should have been honoured.

It wasn't Sirius's fault that he absolutely hated how he looked with a plastic cap on.

OOooOO

By mid-September, Sirius had a new-found respect for all those poor souls who had made his birthday cakes and catered to his mother's orders. This cooking and baking business was harder than catching a robber running a red light.

"I have to say, you might have beautiful hair, Black, but nobody needs it as part of their daily nutrition." Sirius frowned as Remus held up the pie pan. Remus just had to find a fault with everything he did; he had worked so hard on this one, pressing and shaping it to perfection-

"Oh." Sirius managed as he squinted and found a strand of black embedded in the crust and then gave a shite-eating grin, "it could be nutritional." Remus was not impressed, and Sirius sighed heavily as he pulled out the crust. All that work.

"You just can't do what you're told, can you?" Remus commented irritably, finally showing a sign that he was actually human and not just an efficient, nice robot with a thousand-watt smile at the ready. Sirius was about to retort when Remus's hands landed on his shoulder to steady him.

"What-" heat bloomed across Sirius's face when Remus's hands began fussing with his hair, and he felt his hair being bunched and pushed into the tiny space of the shower cap. "Err-thanks I suppose," Sirius told him once be had cleared his throat before he realised something.

"You said I've got beautiful hair," he said in a teasing tone as he checked his reflection on a shiny pan and fixed the hideous green cap.

"I said no such thing, Sirius," Remus replied immediately, but Sirius continued grinning as he balled up another piece of dough and began kneading it. "All right, maybe I did," he admitted with a smile of his own after he had set the oven for forty-five minutes.

"There's something about dark hair," Remus said, and Sirius glanced up at him to indicate that he was listening before returning to his task.

"Mhmm. I suppose," Sirius mused aloud while dusting flour over the pan. "But I guess I don't see the appeal, my whole family looks like me." Remus snorted at that.

"Inbreeding?" he asked with a cheeky smile that did strange things to Sirius's insides. "Not that I mean to pry, but have you got a woman waiting for you at home?"

Sirius rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "You mean a sister, right? Have you looked at the state of me? Even a hag wouldn't have me if I paid in thousands, Remus." The brown haired man pinned him with a sharp look before his eyes began to rove over Sirius's form all the way from his head to his toes. It became unusually quiet, and _odd_ , as Sirius found himself being studied by Remus, intensely, and Sirius found himself locking eyes with him. His mouth went dry. "Remus?" Finally, the man looked away.

"You're being too hard on yourself," Remus said, "You look more than all right to me. A hag would be over the moon to have somebody like you even give her a second of your time." Sirius felt the air around them change oddly again and decided to shift the focus from him.

"What about you? A woman? Girl?" Remus laughed at that and turned to him with a secretive smile.

"No girls, not that kind of a man," he answered easily. "There was a woman for a while." He didn't divulge any more information.

"Hey, everyone's got a story, right?" Sirius said amicably, and Remus nodded, still watching him with a look that seemed to shoot straight right into his heart and poke at his deepest secrets. "What happened in yours?" he asked, just to fill the sudden silence.

Remus sighed at that and brushed his hands against his apron before turning his attention to Sirius and saying slowly, "I couldn't give her what she wanted, not exactly." Sirius paused and then set the pie-pan aside and faced Remus, legs crossed at the ankles as he leaned against the table.

"Commitment issues?" he asked, trying to keep up the curious expression, although he suddenly was beginning to have his doubts at the way the man was looking at him. Remus shook his head.

"No, we sorted that one out with a long 'talking and throwing plates' process," he explained to Sirius, "but that's not why we broke up eventually." He looked at Sirius as if contemplating. "I'm not as straight as I made myself out to be when we met."

Sirius's breath left him at the admission but still, he didn't know why for sure, he had to confirm it.

"You saying you cheated on her with a man or something?" Remus laughed at that lightly before pushing away from the table and shifting unnecessarily close to Sirius. He reached around him to grab the bag of flour before stepping away from Sirius's personal space.

"I never cheated on her," Remus told him slowly, still standing rather close. Sirius swallowed at the proximity, inhaled sharply at the look Remus was giving him, but he wasn't ready for the way his breath stuttered in his throat when Remus's free hand ghosted across his cheek.

"You had a bit of flour there," Remus said softly before backing away quietly to resume working and then added, "I'll understand if you have a problem working with me."

Sirius didn't respond at first. Did he have a problem with Remus's orientation? Judging by the way his skin was still tingling from that little touch, the answer to that was a shocking and rather resounding 'no'.

"I-I don't," Sirius told him before turning away, willing his overreacting body to just calm down. He hadn't been laid in weeks, that was the only explanation for his sudden urge to want to close the distance between them and touch the man's shoulder, feel the bone and muscle working underneath his hands—He cleared his throat and set back to work, and forced himself to stop thinking in that line.

The silence they continued working in was the most awkward kind ever until the rest of the crew began filtering in.

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><p>Don't hesitate to leave a word of advice or a review. Faves are always appreciated.<p> 


	3. Padfoot, you beast!

AN:Here's the third part of the fic,guys!A little longer than the others. :) Again,thanks to adventitiious for her wonderful beta work! :)

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><p><span>Chapter 3<span>

A press here and a fold there. Roll it like this—

Sirius threw the rubbery shape that was supposed to be a flower on the table, frustrated at his lack of skill. It was after closing hours, and Remus was rolling out a new batch of pink fondant while Marlene was shaping up the bits of fondant into white roses as if she would not be anywhere else.

"Problem?" Remus asked, glancing at Sirius, who eyed the man critically; he had gone back to the Mr. Niceguy act and was still trying to adjust Sirius, according to some hidden skill he must have.

"Everybody's competent at something, Black," he had said with a hand on his back that had lingered a little too long, if Sirius remembered clearly, feeling confused at his own train of thought.

"It looked like fun at the time," Sirius said as he looked down at his miserable _handiwork_ that looked nothing like a rose. "Why can't people just be satisfied with a normal chocolate topping?" Marlene chuckled and Hannah—the teen's badge read Hannah Abbott—joined in from where she was cleaning the little round tables.

"Flowers sell," Dung commented, picking his teeth. Sirius wrinkled his nose at the man.

"So, you think maybe you should stick to baking?" Remus asked him, sounding genuinely interested. "Or you could try your hand at frosting cakes."

"I'll think about it, thanks." Sirius looked the man over. He had asked the others about Remus in between work and what he had gathered was this: Remus was either a war veteran, a former drug dealer, a bartender who had been in a fatal fight, or a Welsh man who had run away from a cult and ended up scarred in the process. None of them provided a real answer but what Sirius saw was a man who laughed with his co-workers, who smiled at him genuinely, who actually was trying to have Sirius fit in this little shop.

Sirius had to admire the man's patience.

But Remus could also be an absolute bastard at times, and Sirius didn't understand what brought it on. The same evening, after Remus had made a huge ordeal over him, he had spilled some milk powder. Remus had muttered something about letting an ex-convict in here without consulting anybody in the first place.

"Abe is going to kill me," he said more clearly, and Sirius inhaled sharply at the previous jab, and then his restraint on his volatile temper snapped.

"What the hell is your problem, Lupin?" he shouted. Marlene gasped as she dropped the large circle of fondant on the table in shock, and Dung spit out his cherry-flavoured cola. "People can make mistakes, is that so hard to believe?" Lupin stopped for a second, his shoulders hunched. He turned around and threw a bundle of keys at Marlene who caught it deftly.

"Close up the shop, I'm leaving." He then left without offering any more words. Sirius clenched his fists to refrain from wringing the other man's neck from behind.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and glared at the rest of the crew, who was watching him warily. "What?" he bit out loudly and then, without warning, Dung laughed out, and Marlene joined in. Hannah and Justin looked just as confused as Sirius. "What is…?" he let out, and Marlene chuckled before coming up to him to pat his arm.

"Nothing, except that you might be the first person who's actually been able to do that. It takes a lot for someone to get to him, he must be taking a liking to you," she told him with a smile; she was a really pretty woman, probably not much younger than him. Was there something here?

Unbidden, the thought of a bartender from a long time ago, when he had worked with the police for this country, popped up in his head, and he almost shivered as he remembered the way the man had kissed him; he had been young and adventurous but in his line of work, there had been no room for_that_ kind of behaviour.

_No!_He was completely and utterly straight, this was just the effect of hanging around Remus. He got a hold of himself after kicking that thought out the proverbial door before shutting it close.

Sirius looked around at them. Why did they have to take that kind of shite from him anyway? What was so great about Remus Lupin?

Sirius verbalized this unknowingly, and as he watched the others work, he found out that Marlene was ever grateful for Remus paying careful attention to her handmade cupcakes that had dropped on the road one rainy evening; Justin had been a customer who had somehow ended up pouring his heart out about his mother's cancer bills to Remus, who had been both a waiter and patissier at the time; Hannah had come to the shop asking if they would buy a painting for their sweet little shop to give it a 'lovely touch' and that she also blushed every time Remus's name was mentioned; and from Dung surprisingly that _Sweet Love_ had been a 'dingy little thing' before Remus where the only things you'd find were oily croissants and some cakes and bad coffee.

"Shoulda seen this place last year; I was working here for ages, then Remmy came in and I'll tell you this, the man is gifted when it comes to baking," Dung said. They all talked in a tone of admiration that Remus would probably never have if he had chosen to recount any of this.

After closing up the shop, Sirius waved at them as he started his motorcycle that was parked in the alley and decided, that maybe he ought to try and get back in Remus's good graces. He checked his reflection in the window of a toy-store and tried to smile adoringly and shook his head at the result; he needed to work on that. He wasn't getting any younger after all.

OOooOO

Remus scowled at Sirius, the man smiling at him brightly as they worked the next morning with a more than usual amount of space between them; that smile did things to him that he hadn't experienced in years, and that was counting the men he had braved approaching in the clubs; years of suppressing oneself didn't go away in a matter of months, after all.

To be honest, he hadn't meant to lose his temper with the man and had actually planned on apologising - but it seemed like the only thing keeping Sirius at a distance at that moment was their row from last evening. Otherwise Sirius was always patting him, leaning across or draping an arm around his shoulders which was fine, more than fine, except that those casual touches had the power to make Remus feel like the fumbling, young officer he had once been all over again.

It was worse now when a shadow of Sirius's jovial self kept making its appearance, it made Remus look past his lanky hair under the cap, the dents of his ribs visible through his clothing and want to lick the prominent hollow of his collarbone. He almost shivered with the want that washed over him; it hadn't been this bad even when he had been fresh out of university and seen Sirius with James Potter from afar almost every day.

"Focus, Black!" Remus chided the man - who had been about to open his mouth, no doubt to talk about something new he had seen on Discovery Channel - and flipped his rolling pin expertly which caused a scowl to form on the other man's face as he resumed working. That was better.

OOooOO

Sirius looked around at the various expressions of exasperation on his co-workers' faces, all thanks to him of course. He swallowed down the apology that almost made its way out of his mouth and huffed before taking off his apron; he was the substitute manager and baker for the day, even if nobody had bothered informing him beforehand. Truth be told, he had managed everything quite well, hadn't he? Not counting Mr. Filch of course, that man was an absolute pain in the arse. Why ask for _Oolong tea_ when it wasn't even on their menu? But of course, he was nothing on Remus; the crew here _loved_Remus. If he said 'jump'…

"I'm so done with this," he announced angrily. "Why didn't Remus just say something before?"

"Look, Sirius. You're new here, so you had no idea. I'm sorry we forgot," Hannah told him, her tone genuine, and he repressed a roll of his eyes before composing himself.

"So you're saying, that he goes off to do whatever it is he does once a month and nobody knows exactly where that is, or how to reach him?" He looked at them all pointedly, and they in turn looked at each other.

"I guess so," Dung murmured. Well, that was helpful.

"All right, I guess it wasn't the best of me to react that way," Sirius said in a placating tone once he resumed his seat. "So Remus ever tell you anything at all?" He directed the question at Hannah, because she was easier to get to than the others, but it was Justin who cleared his throat.

"Sirius, you have to know that Mr. Lupin is a private person. He would have told you if he wanted you to know." Sirius raised an eyebrow as he leaned forward to look Justin in the eye.

"And I suppose you know everything about him? Best of friends, are you?" Sirius asked sarcastically before adding hostilely, "Or maybe something more. Tell me something, Justin, is Mr. Lupin your _type_?" The teen's eyes widened in shock.

"No!" Justin shouted, visibly angry, as he slammed his fists on the table-top, "How could you—why would you—" He made a disgusted noise before pushing away and throwing down his disposable gloves. "You're a real prick, you know that? You have a problem with Mr. Lupin's preferences? Well, nobody's making you stay here."

"Justin—" Hannah started worryingly, but the young boy shook his head before untying his apron.

"Isn't enough just enough?" He glared at Sirius who leaned back in his seat calmly. "I don't understand why Mr. Lupin just doesn't get rid of a useless murderer like—"

"That's enough now." Everybody turned to see Remus closing the door shut and turning the key to lock it again before he pierced Justin with a look. "Justin, you know I don't tolerate any sort of misbehaviour here, especially not with the rest of the staff."

"Yes, I know, Mr. Lupin. But, he was—"His reasoning wavered under the gaze Remus had pinned him with, and Sirius couldn't help admiring the way he hadn't even had to raise his voice with the boy, who then turned to Sirius and gave a quick apology before being excused.

"I didn't start it," Sirius said as soon as Remus turned towards him. Remus raised an eyebrow.

"I doubt that, very much. What I would like to know is about today." The smile he bestowed upon the rest of them had the females detailing out the day and Dung bringing in the day's bills.

"I take it things went well today, then?" Remus commented softly all of a sudden, and he looked at Sirius with something akin to pride, which surprised Sirius, more so when he actually smiled at him. "I guess we've found our new manager." Sirius was too busy staring at Remus to notice the others' gapes and jaw drops. Had Remus just complimented him?

"It was nothing," Sirius replied, preening just a little bit inside; it had been a while since he'd had that feeling of accomplishment.

"It's not nothing, Sirius," Remus told him, "It's a lot of hard work and dealing with people and…ah, I guess what I'm trying to say is - good work, Sirius." He smiled bashfully. "And I'm sorry for not informing you beforehand."

"Thanks," Sirius responded, feeling unusually shy under the warm gaze Remus had trained on him, "Remember, knight and shining armour and all?" The answering chuckle that only they shared in midst of the others' confusion made Sirius store the moment in a little box of precious memories along with those of James and Lily.

"Mmm, Remmy?" Dung called out. "Filch was here today." Sirius waved his hands in the air wildly and then made cutting motions across his throat. Dung would not besmirch his name, not after everything! Remus did not miss the bug-eyed look Dung gave Sirius, or Sirius's hands in mid-cutting motion.

In the end, Remus decided that perhaps, a few more days in the stifling heat of the kitchen would do Sirius a lot of good.

"One day, I'm gone for one day and you..." Remus shook his head and looked around at them with something like a maternal expression. "What am I going to do with you lot?"

OOooOO

It took Sirius four days to give in after first facing Remus's sudden 'Jekyll and Hyde' attitude switch. He would be instructing Sirius casually and then just suddenly, smack the back of his head none too gently. Or if Sirius managed to botch up an entire batch of muffins, he would actually attack his bicep with an embossing rolling pin, which he probably saved just for Sirius, and occasionally Marlene when she needed it—for work purposes, not hitting people.

It was utter and complete abuse; Sirius was probably going to need three months of recuperation from a concussion if this kept up. The only reason he didn't protest much except give Remus a 'what-the-fuck?' look was because he was too much of a man to complain.

"He really does like you, I think." Marlene assured him from where the crew had gathered at the window when Remus had taken a bathroom break. The man was actually human!

"He's never done that to me, or any of us," Hannah informed him. Justin's face turned red, and Dung hooted at the young girl who blushed, squeaking out an 'I didn't mean it like that!' and quite a few 'Stop it!' before they heard the click of the lock from the bathroom and dashed back to their stations.

Now, standing outside Remus's building that evening, Sirius almost turned back, but he forced himself to stay put, wrapping a hand around the handle and pulling the glass door open. The smell of orange-scented potpourri hit his nose as he made his way purposefully to the elevator.

He rang the bell and the door rattled open, and Sirius was faced with a smile, then that permanent scowl Remus had seemingly reserved just for him.

"How did you find me?" Surprise!

"What, no hello? How do you do? Or how about, nice haircut you've got there, Sirius?" Sirius asked as he leaned back and ran a hand through freshly-cut black locks.

"Nice haircut you've got there, Sirius," he replied, mimicking Sirius's tone and then added, "Did you have any accidents with the hair dryers." Sirius rolled his eyes.

"The fact that you even know what a hair dryer is-" Sirius thrust his hands out to catch the door in time as Remus almost succeeded in slamming the door in his face. "Sorry, okay. I didn't come here to fight. I just want to talk to you." Sirius held up the package and Remus leaned forward to read the name.

"Traitor!" Remus said.

"Well, if _somebody_ was ready to satisfy my need for that mille-feuille, I wouldn't have to resort to this," Sirius replied good-naturedly.

Remus narrowed his eyes. Sirius held on, not pushing and looked right at Remus, into his hazel eyes and then felt the door give under his touch as Remus opened it widely and walked back inside without a word. Sirius followed him, as he looked around curiously at the furnished flat, which was devoid of any personal touch. A temporary place maybe?

Sirius sat down on one of the sofas, the cushion dipping in with his weight, and the smell of cooking hit his nostrils and his mouth watered. When was the last time he'd had actual, good homemade food?

He was taking a casual look around the drawing room when a loud bark alerted him, but before he could do anything, he fell over as a massive weight threw itself upon him, and he found himself performing a face-plant worthy of being on a screen.

"Padfoot!"

"Mmmf!" Sirius managed as the beast let out a _woof_ and he felt the weight move off, allowing him to breathe once more. Coughing, Sirius sat up immediately and shot the black dog a threatening look. "What the hell, Remus?"

"Sorry about that," Remus said, sounding anything but sorry as he reached down to rub the dog's ears. It let out a mewl of happiness and then turned an innocent face at Sirius.

"Fuck, no," Sirius exclaimed as the beast trotted forward, towards him, "Go away, doggie. Come on, now." The stupid little monster, that was probably part wolf from the look of it, didn't take any heed of Sirius's words and lunged playfully at him while shedding hundreds of strands of black fur on Sirius's legs.

"Padfoot," Remus admonished, but the man looked so damn pleased that Sirius was about to flip him the bird when the bloody dog's tongue chose that moment to coat his cheek with its love and affection.

"Ugh!" Sirius pushed away the dog. It whimpered and gave Sirius a _look_ that he tried to ignore but failed when the beast continued looking up at him, as if pleading to be loved. He looked to Remus for help. "Remus?" The man chuckled before whistling, and the dog's ears immediately perked up before it bounded towards the man. Remus fell back on his bottom, laughing as he went down and Sirius found himself staring.

This was supposed to be Remus Lupin, the man who had single-handedly brought down Antonin Dolohov—Sirius had done his research; he had gotten a bit carried away using his new phone—this man who enjoyed being playfully mauled by a beast almost as heavy as him? Sirius found himself getting distracted once again at the way the man laughed so easily with the dog when it pushed its nose into his hair. Were those two nuzzling? Sirius cleared his throat.

"Should I leave you two for some alone time?" he asked curtly, feeling left out for no apparent reason. Remus looked embarrassed and pushed the dog away gently with a ruffle of its fur and stood up.

"Come on, we were just about to have dinner." Sirius took note of the 'we' and sent a prayer up for Remus.

"How cute," he said wryly as he followed the man and the dog, "now, all you need is the knitting circle." Remus flipped him the bird, and he choked out a laugh. "The good boy knows how to swear."

"I haven't said anything," Remus protested. Sirius took in the furnished kitchen and immediately noticed a tapered rolling pin showed off decoratively on a stand in the middle of a small table set for two. A personal touch and from the look of it, very precious too.

"It's a ceramic one," Remus told him when he noticed Sirius staring at the floral print glinting against the white pin. "It was a gift from my father." Sirius nodded, understanding the sentiment; he still had a photo in frame on his bedside table from Harry's first birthday. He cleared his throat.

"Remus, I've been wondering," he started as took the chair closest the doorway. "Where do you go every month? You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," he said, adding the last part quickly, but then morphed his expression to one that he hoped was his pleading one; he had been so good at that before Azkaban. "It's just that I was hoping, since now we're friends and all—"

"Sirius," Remus interrupted with a smile that he tried to suppress. "I was never in a cult, or in the army. It was my last undercover assignment." Sirius pinned him with a sharp look.

"Sounds" —he tried to think of a word—"complicated," he finally said, lamely. Remus stalled, pouring wine in two glasses before taking a seat opposite to him.

"It wasn't, really. I was sent undercover to Greyback's cartel. He found out eventually and we never got him." He began to trace the rim of the glass in front of him, and Sirius found himself watching the long finger working in half-circles.

"Vice squad?" Sirius asked, and Remus nodded. Everybody knew about Greyback; ruthless and untouchable with a fondness for child trafficking.

"In the end, all I ended up with were these, and a monthly visit to a therapist," Remus said, pointing at the scars on the bridge of his nose, and Sirius leaned forward to get a closer look; he could see the faint outlines running all the way to the side of his left cheekbone. He had the sudden urge to feel it under his fingertips. He leaned back into his chair.

"You RESIGNED?" Sirius asked, a little shocked; he would have never been able to do so had he not lost his faith in the system of justice with his arrest. "Wasn't it hard?"

"I don't think I had it in me anymore," Remus replied so quietly that Sirius almost didn't hear it. "I tried, believe me, I did, Sirius. But the Met's not what it used to be; too much political influence, too much pressure."

"Is that where you went the other day? Your therapist?" Sirius asked, curiosity evident in his voice, and Remus looked at him, the surprise obvious in his expression, and the sudden show of vulnerability had Sirius looking right into unguarded eyes and seeing a man who was broken, fighting to stay strong. He felt something pass between them and gulped.

"I—yes. Yes, I was," Remus said stiffly, and then he turned to lift a medium-sized black crockpot off the nearby counter, placing it onto the table to the side, which had Sirius laughing suddenly.

"And here, I thought you were a real cook." Sirius ducked as Remus's napkin flew at his head, aimed perfectly, and causing Padfoot to bark happily.

Sirius composed himself, pushing his plate towards Remus before saying, "It's all right, I won't tell the others. About your appointments," he added the last part hesitantly, and Remus looked at him like _that_ again. Fuck, no. Not this again.

"I—I don't know what to say," Remus replied honestly, and Sirius was somehow completely charmed by this side of Remus.

"A thank you would be nice," he said back cheekily, and Remus laughed before serving him.

"He likes you," Remus told Sirius an hour later as he looked through hazy eyes at Padfoot nudging Sirius's hand resting on the armrest. They were sitting, trying to watch a slasher movie but there wasn't much watching being done. Sirius made horrible puns like while mildly drunk, and Remus apparently couldn't keep his eyes off the dark-haired man. Sirius had been right, the hair cut was nice.

"Does he?" Sirius asked softly as the fur rubbed against his knuckles, and he gave in to the pleading gaze turned upon him to rub the dog's neck; he reminded Sirius of himself with the way he seemed to revel in the attention. "Good boy," he said as he watched the beast turn to putty in his hands.

"Scratch behind his ears, he likes that," Remus said and leaned sideways, over Sirius's lap, to demonstrate it. "There."

"Like that?" Sirius asked huskily, and Remus nodded before looking up. His eyes widened as he noted their proximity; his one hand on Sirius's thigh and the other in Padfoot's fur where Sirius's hand was suddenly joining his and tangling within the fur, and unbidden, his thoughts skittered very much out of the friend-zone. He slowly sat up, mouth going dry as Sirius continued staring at him and his hand left Padfoot's fur.

Remus swallowed and followed Sirius's gaze travel to his throat as the dark-haired man's hand began tracing a path up his arm. Gooseflesh broke out over his skin, and Remus licked his lips without meaning to. He heard Sirius mutter a curse before his chin was being tilted up by the man's hand in a strong grip that did nothing to quell Remus's arousal. He tried calling Sirius's name as alarm bells began ringing in his head, but the wine in his system merrily kicked the unwanted thoughts away as he leaned in.

They had barely brushed lips when Padfoot let out a loud bark, and the moment snapped. They pulled away, especially Sirius as if he had been burned, and Remus looked away, embarrassed and angry at the same time. They stayed that way for a long minute that felt like an hour.

"I should go," Sirius finally announced, and Remus cleared his throat.

"You can stay until the movie finishes," he said, trying for some normalcy, but Sirius shook his head vehemently.

"No, I've got stuff to do at home." Right, of course. Remus buried his face in the large sofa cushion as Sirius left in such a hurry, as if he had an ex on his heels. The door shut with a firm click, and Remus sighed, Padfoot's nose nuzzling at his hand as if in an apology.

"What am I doing, Padfoot?" Remus asked out loud as he ran his fingers through the dog's fur.

* * *

><p>Don't hesitate to leave a word of advice or a review. Faves are always appreciated.<p> 


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